


Wasted Time

by luway



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Microscopic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Snowed In, its the holiday season, skzss2018, sort of a christmas fic but also not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luway/pseuds/luway
Summary: When Chan gets snowed in on his way home for the holidays, he doesn't expect to meet a cute stranger along the way. Somehow a package of shitty store bought ramyeon and a delayed flight are all it takes for Chan to bump into Woojin.aka cute and dorky woochan making the best out of a less than ideal situation





	Wasted Time

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays! this is a secret santa gift for skz secret santa 2018 and i'm really happy to be able to post it finally
> 
> i hope y'all enjoy, and please forgive any errors as this is unbeta'd as usual! ♡
> 
> note from me a month later: airports are not romantic they suck and I hate them also security has it out for me

**[ 20:40, -3°C ]**

 

_“You’ll be home soon right?”_

 

Chan tucks his phone between his head and shoulder as he switches out all the won he has on him for dollars for when he touches down in Australia in about thirteen hours—depending on when his flight leaves.

 

“As soon as I can mom, they say there’s a bad storm rolling in but hopefully I’ll be out of the area before it hits.” Chan assures his mother as he pockets the cash, heading off to find his gate.

 

He speaks to his mom for a bit longer before they have to say goodbye. The clock is creeping up on eleven in Australia, while for Chan it’s only half past eight. A two hour difference that doesn’t seem like much in thought, but becomes much more apparent in times like this.

 

For the first time since Chan transferred to Seoul for college he was going home. Excited to spend the holiday break with his family in person—as opposed to a pixelated screen in the back of the public library. He was taking a non-stop twelve hour flight home so he could have dinner with his family, speak with them without the tinny quality of his laptop.

 

Chan settles down in one of the many chairs at his gate, pulling out his earbuds to pass some time as he waits. With the clock on his phone reading 20:23, he has less than one hour until he has to board if things go to plan.

 

The air has a constant chill to it, and Chan is admittedly under dressed in his simple white tee shirt and thin navy sweatshirt.

 

It’s far from ideal at this time in Seoul of all places, with banks of snow on every corner and a snow storm on its way. Chan expects to be in Australia sooner than later though, and didn’t feel keen on dragging a giant coat or hoodie around with him. He prefers travelling light—hence the backpack he holds with only the bare essentials: a few snacks for the road, his computer, and all his chargers and generic wires he felt were important to surviving the twelve hour flight ahead of him.

 

His suitcase was already packed away somewhere else in the airport ready to ship off to Australia with him, so he couldn't change even if he would have liked to now.

 

 **[ 20:46, -3** **°C ]**

 

_“Attention, Due to weather inconveniences all flights will be delayed until tomorrow for the safety of all staff and patrons. Stay safe, and we wish you a happy Christmas season.”_

 

Chan releases a long drawn out groan.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He grumbles as he sends a quick text to his mother, apologizing for the lack of warning to the change and wishing her a good night.

 

Chan spends the next few minutes wondering what to do.

 

Ideally, if his campus was closer he would just go home and come back in the morning, but it takes a hour to get to the airport, and he wouldn’t expect his roomate Changbin to come all the way back when he had so kindly offered to drive Chan to the airport in the first place.

 

“Guess I’m staying the night.” Chan sighs under his breath and pulls his laptop out of his backpack. He waits for it to turn on, plugging his earbuds in and settling down to finish up some schoolwork while he has the time. He figures it’s better to get it done now, rather than leave it all to the end of break when he’ll be all soft from home cooking and an _almost_ fixed sleep schedule.

 

Chan keeps to his own bubble in the airport, and moves to the back corner of the gate's waiting area so he won’t be in anyone’s way as people filter out to catch rides home for the night. 

 

The flight he was meant to be on was a small one anyways—just three or four families who were probably on their way to visit family for the holidays—so most people clear out quickly in his own gate, leaving the room mostly empty besides Chan and a few others who have also condemned themselves to a long night. He decides to be courteous though, and finds a more empty gate further down the hall where he won’t disrupt their sleep with the clacking of his keyboard as he types.

 

All in all Chan finds the experience less stressful than he initially assumed it would be when he heard the announcement.

 

People filter out and after an hour or so the airport as a whole is rather quiet, other than the faint tapping of Chan’s fingers flying across his keyboard and others like it in the surrounding area.

 

It’s peaceful.

 

 **[ 23:45, -7** **°C** **]**

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Chan is pulled out of the third page of his paper for his Music Theory course when someone walks up in front of him, their knees only just visible over the top of his laptop screen.

 

“Yeah, sorry.” Chan stutters, tugging his earbuds out so he can hear the stranger properly—a tall man about Chan’s age carrying a duffel bag by his side.

 

“No worries, I just wanted to ask if this space was free? My gate is pretty packed, and I’m not too good with tight spaces.” The man explains with a polite smile, but Chan can see he’s tired by the strain in his eyes, just like everyone else around them. 

 

“Yep, anything you see is up for grabs.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

With how invested Chan had been in his paper, he only just notices that his sweater doing extremely little to warm him up, and the airport is only getting colder. 

 

He shudders and rubs his shins, the friction offering a little relief from the cold that bites at his skin and covers it in goosebumps. Chan wishes he had brought the hoodie he had tucked into the bottom of his suitcase for the extremely off chance that temperatures at home dropped below 20°C. He had assumed he would be on a plane by now, and would already be near the equator—it being nearly midnight his time.

 

But when did anything go to plan for him. 

 

The airport has left the minimum of its functions running which means most of the area is bathed in muted shadows, and Chan can see the other people who decided to stay the night powering down and preparing for an uncomfortable night of fitful sleep.

 

He shuts his laptop and tucks it back into his bag, standing up to do a few stretches and get the blood flowing through his legs again. A few odd looks are all he receives as he jogs around the gate area.

 

As he jogs Chan wishes that he had become more accustomed to the colder weather in Korea. Even when he was bundled up in his dorm he always seemed to be a bit chilly, as if his body was unable to rid itself of the chill that always seemed to cling to him.

 

He decides to make his way down the hall, seeing as all he’s doing now is bothering everyone around him who is trying to sleep.

 

A few gates down he comes up on a small convenience store with one employee at the desk in the back. It looks like she’s preparing to close, but the doors haven’t been shut yet, so Chan decides to try his luck and see if she’ll take him as a customer.

 

“Excuse me?” Chan waves shyly when she looks up, and he sympathizes with the faint dark circles under her eyes. “Could I get some ramyeon please?”

 

The girl nods, but Chan doesn’t miss the slightest hint of annoyance in her eyes. He would be too if some idiot looking like him walked in when he was just about to clock out.

 

Chan grabs a package from the shelf along with a bottled water and sets them both down on the counter in front of her, hearing the clicking of the cash register as he searches for his wallet, patting his pockets. Nothing.

 

“That’ll be five thousand won.” The girl sounds tired, not even looking at him as he has an internal panic. He’s going to seem like such an asshole, and she’ll probably assume he was trying to get his food for free or something.

 

“Uh—Sorry—”

 

“I got it!” Chan hears a vaguely familiar voice from behind him and turns to see the young man from earlier holding out a note for fifteen thousand won and another package of ramyeon. “Could you add this to it please?”

 

The cashier doesn’t question it, or listen to Chan’s small objections as she rings it up and puts it all into a plastic bag.

 

“Keep the change, and get home safely!” The young man smiles and grabs the bag off the counter. Turning to Chan and giving him a shy smile as well as he grabs Chan’s water and ramyeon and holds it out to him. “Here ya go. Sorry about that, you just seemed like you could use some help.”

 

“Thank you.” Chan rubs the back of his neck, hoping he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels. He takes the package and water bottle gratefully, a probably-goofy smile on his face as he suppresses a blush. “I’ll pay you back, my wallet should be in my backp—”

 

“Don’t worry about it. Just, walk with me back to the gate?”

 

Chan nods in response to the man's hopeful expression, the plastic wrap around the noodles making a crinkling sound when he puts it in the pocket of his sweater.

 

“Are you alright?” Chan looks over and sees his newfound partner watching him with an amused expression. He hadn’t even realized he started shivering again as they walked, arms tucked over his chest and teeth clenched together so they wouldn’t chatter.

 

“What? Oh, yeah I’m just cold. Clearly I didn't dress for this,” Chan motions to the window on the wall to the far right of them, which shows all of the landing strips and planes parked and shut down. A heavy sheet of white is covering everything at this point, and snow is blowing everywhere. It really is something of a blizzard out there.

 

“Can I ask why? You're not some kind of masochist are you?”

 

Chan shakes his head, glad to see the gate in sight. “Definitely not.”

 

“So..?”

 

“Well I wasn't really expecting a sleepover.” Chan chuckles, and his smile grows when the man smiles back at him. “I’m going home for Christmas. It's not exactly like this where I was supposed to be going, and I didn't want to be gross and sweaty when I touched down. Being hot and sticky on an airplane is worse than—well I don't know. It's just not something I like to do.”

 

“Understandable. My name’s Woojin by the way. Kim Woojin.”

 

“Bang Chan, nice to meet you.”

 

Chan extends his hand and gives Woojin a small smile when he takes it to shake.

 

“If you want, I could lend you a sweater. I have an extra in my bag.” Woojin says when they finally reach the gate, motioning to the duffel bag tucked a few seats away from Chan’s. Woojin looks all cozy and warm in his maroon sweater, and Chan finds himself staring at the thick cable knit fabric with a silent longing, wishing he had been a bit more prepared.

 

“You wouldn’t mind?” Chan asks, but Woojin is already unzipping the duffel bag and carefully picking through folded clothes.

 

Chan thinks of his own suitcase, with so many black garments shoved in at random it looks like one big blob on the inside.

 

“This one’s kind of old, but it’s definitely good for keeping warm.” Woojin holds out a hoodie, which Chan gratefully takes.

 

It’s a black hoodie that had begun to fade from years of Tuesday laundry and fabric softener. The washed out names on the back nearly illegible from years of wear, but Chan can see a small white figure in a dobok wielding a stick—or whatever they use in kendo. Under the figure Chan can make out the faded text that reads, _World Kendo Championship 2009._

 

“You’re a lifesaver.” Chan chuckles as he slips his own useless sweater off so it's just his tee shirt doing nothing.

 

There’s a faint smell of deodorant clinging to the fabric, Chan notices as he pulls Woojin’s hoodie over his head, but not the overpowering smell of _Man_ that he had almost been expecting. It's like a mix of lavender and something that kind of smells like Old Spice, if such a mix existed. It's pleasant, like when you pull your clothes out of the dryer and they're all warm and smell _clean._

 

Oddly enough, Chan likes it.

 

He pulls the hood over his dark curls and rubs his arms slowly, trying to warm himself faster.

 

“Uh, so how are we planning on cooking these?” Woojin asks, and Chan is confused for a moment before he sees Woojin holding the two packages of ramyeon.

 

“ _Crap_ , I forgot.” Chan swears under his breath, wondering if it’s possible that the cashier hadn’t left yet.

 

The both fall into a thoughtful silence, and Chan finds it funny how he can almost see the two of them as they are, bouncing through ideas on how to cook their shitty convenience store ramyeon so they don’t have to make this already unfortunate night worse.

 

“You know,” Woojin starts, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he seems to contemplate his idea. “I think I saw an employee break room around the corner, there’s bound to be a microwave or something to boil water in there.’

 

“Are we allowed to do that?” Chan asks, eyebrows raised high. He had only known Woojin for a short time but he didn’t seem like the kind of person to trespass, or do anything remotely against the rules. Not that Chan minds a little trouble.

 

Woojin shrugs. “Well it’s either that or munch on some uncooked ramyeon.”

 

“I see your point.”

 

 **[ 00:57, -8** **°C ]**

 

The gurgle of the coffee machine as it heats up the water fills up the room, which was almost deathly silent when Woojin and Chan snuck in. There was a faint rumble of the weak heating pumping less than freezing air inside, but it all blended together into a hum of background noise as Chan and Woojin laughed and talked.

 

“So where are you going specifically?”

 

 Chan looks up from the coffee machine over to where Woojin is setting up the ramyeon in some old bowls he found in the back of an otherwise bare cupboard. He had washed them with what little soap that was supplied and even found a pair of chopsticks for each of them—seeing as they had forgotten to grab those as well when they left.

 

Where would Chan be without random airport men in his life. 

 

“I’m going home for the holidays,” Chan says as he brings the pot over to the coffee table. “I’m just studying here, I’m from Australia.”

 

“Ah, I thought it would be something like England.”

 

“People always say that,” Chan chuckles and glances down at the empty bowl in front of him. “I’ve lost some of the accent because I’ve been over here for so long, but it’s still there.”

 

Woojin grins as he pours the ramyeon into the bowls and they begin to eat. “I was surprised when you first spoke honestly, I wasn’t expecting it.”

 

Chan scoffs, taking a moment to blow on the steaming noodles before shoveling some into his mouth. It burns, but not bad enough for him to really regret it. “Yeah, sorry. I was a bit tired then.”

 

“Why are you sorry?”

 

“Uh, well… I’ve been told it sounds weird when it comes to Korean.” Chan explains, moving his hand as he speaks. “It was hard for me to learn the language at first, cause a lot of the words were hard for me to pronounce. People couldn’t understand me.”

 

“Really? I think it’s cute.”

 

Chan chokes on the spoonful of ramyeon he had just been about to swallow when Woojin says the word cute, hand flying up to cover his mouth as the broth burns his tongue.

 

“Sorry! Sorry!”

 

Woojin stands up so fast that the chair he’s sitting in falls to the ground with a bang, rushing over to the counter where a roll of paper towels sit. He rips off a handful of them and holds them out for Chan.

 

“You’re fine—” Chan wheezes, hitting his chest with his fist a few times to clear up his throat. “I just… Wasn’t expecting that.”

 

“Well it’s true. You’re very cute Bang Chan.”

 

Chan looks up to see Woojin smiling a smile that has to be brighter than the fucking sun, eyes disappearing into crescents that make Chan’s heart skip a beat. For a moment the dingy lighting doesn’t seem so bad as the whole room lights up.

 

They clean their dishes and leave everything as they found it in the first place, Chan’s face still burning from what Woojin said, and Woojin completely ignoring his blush as they walk back to the terminal.

 

The lights are out in most of the airport, leaving the to walk through darkness. Chan doesn't think it's too bad though, not when every time he manages to make Woojin smile he feels like he's staring into the sun.

 

They must walk the length of the airport three times, in their own little world as they bump shoulders, voices low and laughter soft, echoing through dark halls. Woojin is just one of those people who is so easy to talk to, it amazes Chan how someone he barely knows can make him so comfortable in his own skin. It’s like talking to an old friend he hasn’t seen in years.

 

 **[ 02:04, -9** **°C ]**

 

“My friend Hyunjin says I’m like a mom ‘cause I nag him and the younger guys so much.” Woojin smiles as he rubs the back of his neck, a shy blush appearing on his cheeks as Chan laughs.

 

Plastic crinkles between the as Chan unwraps a lollipop, adding the wrapper to the slowly growing pile between the two of them.

 

They had passed by a candy machine, and once Chan found that he had change for almost two thousand won in his bag, he had gone to raid the machine, filling their pockets with little candies to munch on as they talk.

 

Chan knows eating candy at one in the morning is kind of stupid, but he finds that he doesn’t really care when Woojin lets him throw candies and try to get them into his mouth long after it’s been established that Chan is not very good when it comes to aim. Woojin only relents when Chan hits him in the eye for the fourth time, and Chan nearly hyperventilates from laughing so hard.

 

“That’s cute though. You’re like a big mama bear.”

 

Chan scoots across the floor so he can settle down beside Woojin instead of across from him. There are cold spots on his knees now from where they had been resting against Woojin's, but he doesn’t mind too much. Their shoulders are pressed up against one another, and past the silhouette of Woojin’s side profile in the darkness Chan can see that the snow has finally stopped, leaving the sky a blanket of darkness as the light from the city blocks out all the stars.

 

“Hm,” Woojin hums with a fond smile. “So what are you studying here?”

 

Chan lets out a long exhale, tucking his hands into his armpits as his fingers begin to feel cold. “I’m studying production for music, I want to be a producer.”

 

“Thanks awesome, do you have any songs?” Woojin asks suddenly, face morphing into an expression of pleasant shock and curiosity.

 

It takes a few minutes of Woojin pleading and convincing Chan for him to pull his laptop out of his bag and pull up all the files that hold the music he’s created over the years. The most recent was a single track he created with Changbin and Jisung when he was feeling homesick, just a few months before he planned to fly home for the holidays.

 

“Produced by CB97?” Woojin glances up at him and Chan feels his cheeks burning as he nods.

 

“It’s my uh, stage name.”

 

Woojin doesn’t say anything else about this, pushing the earbuds into his ears and giving Chan a thumbs up, prompting him to open the mp3 file and press play.

 

Chan had chosen the instrumental because it made him feel strong listening to it, and had chosen to rap in English because the whole time writing the lyrics, he just hadn’t been able to really portray how he felt in Korean. The song was something that he needed to be in his native language. He had felt the need as soon as it came to mind, throughout the writing process.

 

He tries his best to not stare at Woojin’s expression while the song plays, trying to remember the last time he had been this nervous for someone to listen to something he made himself.

 

The next four minutes are the longest four minutes in his life.

 

“So..?” Chan asks hesitantly when Woojin takes out the earbuds, wondering what is going on behind Woojin’s poker face.

 

“Well, I thought it was great. I couldn’t understand everything in the English verse, but it’s a really good song.” Woojin smiles as he hands Chan his earbuds back. “You’re really talented if you produced it all on your own. You mentioned the other two guys are your roommates right?”

 

“Changbin is.” Chan nods as he packs up his computer. “Jisung lives in the same building, but he rooms with someone else.”

 

Chan slowly loses track of time, almost forgetting where they are as they both lean into each other and enjoy the quiet of the world around them, usually so loud and chaotic.

 

It’s one of those moments that Chan files away to remember later, a familiar tug in his chest that usually comes when he gets inspiration. If Woojin is that inspiration, he’s not upset at all.

 

 **[ 08:22, -7** **°C ]**

 

_“—call for flight 099, Sydney Australia.”_

 

Chan groans as he begins to wake up, a loud voice buzzing in his ear as he tries to burrow into the warmth beside him. Everything is too bright, and he knows he didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night as soon as he opens his eyes and everything is a blur of color and movement.

 

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, snuffling a little as he looks around.

 

The airport is full of people, though not as packed as it was the night before when all the flights had been delayed.

 

Chan remembers the warmth and looks over to see Woojin passed out, head hanging back as he snores. The young man’s arms are crossed over his chest, but he’s leaning into Chan as Chan had been doing to him in his sleep. The thought sends a quick rush of embarrassment rolling over Chan before the loudspeakers crackle once again overhead, more clearly this time.

 

_“Final call for flight 099, Sydney Australia.”_

 

Chan’s heart skips a beat, and he fumbles to pull out his phone and check the time.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—” Chan’s eyes widen when he sees the time.

 

He lunges for his backpack, bumping into Woojin and waking him up in the process. The man looks confused as he opens his eyes, body tensing when he sees Chan rushing, probably looking half crazed as he zips up his bag.

 

“Chan—Chan!” Woojin grabs his attention finally. “What’s wrong?”

 

“My flight— I’m gonna miss it they just called—” Chan manages to force the words out of his throat, slinging the bag onto his shoulders and turning around where he can see his gate at the end of the hall. “I have to go.”

 

Chan looks back at Woojin, who looks shocked and upset for some reason, but nods anyways. “You have to go then, don’t worry about me.”

 

“Bye,” Chan breathes out, giving Woojin a weak wave before he turns and breaks into a down the hall. His breath comes out in heavy pants as his body adapts to the sudden change from sleeping to running.

 

The doors are still open at the gate when Chan arrives, but he sees the attendant at the desk just beginning to pack up.

 

“Hey, hi,sorry,” Chan chokes out as he digs his ticket out of his backpack, handing it to the woman and waiting restlessly as she checks it.

 

“You’re all set sir, fly safely.”

 

The flight is a blur as Chan settles down in his seat, unable to really relax since he’s seated right between the aisle and a woman with a young child who won’t stop crying the entire flight. It’s a wonder Chan doesn’t tear his own hair out as he blasts his music through his earbuds, wishing he hadn’t chose such a hectic time to fly. The holidays were always insane when it came to traveling it seems.

 

Chan pulls out his phone and lets his mother know that the plane has taken off, and he’ll be there around dinner time if he’s lucky.

 

Out of the corner of his eye in the reflection of his laptop in front of him Chan notices the hoodie he’s wearing, and for a moment his heart drops. He never returned Woojin’s hoodie, and with a sinking feeling Chan realizes he never asked Woojin for a way to contact him before he left.

 

**[ 08:47, -2°C ]**

**February**

 

_“Ah shit.”_

 

Chan has a lovely time with his family over his break, and tries to ignore the pit in his stomach whenever he’s rummaging through his suitcase and catches sight of WOojin’s hoodie tucked under the rest of his clothes, hidden from sight. After a while though, all of his clothes begin to smell like Old Spice and lavender, his scentless detergent succumbing to the warm scent that emanates from the hoodie.

 

Chan tries to think of any way to find Woojin, but an unsuccessful SNS search and even asking Jisung and Changbin for help brings no results. So Chan tries to move on, tries to forget about Kim Woojin who uses coffee makers to boil ramen and has a smile as bright as the sun.

 

Thankfully his flight home is a quick one, and Chan doesn’t spend too much time in the airport.

 

Woojin’s hoodie disappears into Chan’s closet. Melding into the black mass that takes up a majority of the space.

 

 

 

Chan gets back into his old schedule as classes start again; rolls his eyes when Changbin complains about their Music Theory course. He sighs when Jisung crashes on their couch after a long day of studying. He takes a nap out on the green on the odd day that the temperature is above freezing and Jeongin insists on a picnic.

 

Those days are fun, but sometimes Chan will take a bite of ramyeon and feel his heart grow heavy for a moment. 

 

He can't waste time feeling bad about something he can't change though. 

 

Early February is an odd time where the weather can’t seem to decide whether to be hot, cold, or in between. So Chan often finds himself running out of the house in just a t-shirt because of a weather report, only to find himself running back insufe to throw on a hoodie. Especially when the wind outside proves to be far too chilly for him, who just can’t seem to get used to this damned cold.

 

It's on one of these days that Chan finds himself running late for class.

 

He wakes up to the sound of silence, which is odd since his alarm is usually the thing to wake him up in the morning.

 

One look at his alarm clock shows what's wrong though, when instead of glowing blue numbers he sees a blank screen. His dorm had somehow lost power during the night. He would bet his life it was probably another squirrel chewing on the wires trying to make a nest in the roof. 

 

Changbin was smart and didn't take any 8am lectures, so he's free to sleep in while Chan crashes around the dorm like a maniac in search of clean jeans and socks so he can make it to class at least somewhat on time. He'll still be scolded for showing up late, and no doubt he'll sleep through most of it, but he'll have _been_ there. It's the thought that counts. 

 

Chan can feel the static charge up in his curls as he wrenches a random hoodie from the depths of his closet over his head, running out the door with his laptop bag swung over his shoulder. He struggles to fit his other arm through the sleeve of his hoodie as he nearly trips down the stairs. His textbooks are tucked under his arm as he runs out of the dormitory towards the lecture hall. 

 

Whoever decided 8am lectures were a good idea can choke and die in Chan’s opinion.

  


_“Ah shit!”_

 

Chan loses his grip on his textbook while reaching for his phone to check the time.

 

He swears much louder than he means to when he sees all of the papers that had been tucked in the pages of his textbook a moment before flying through the early morning wind that sends then scattering everywhere.

 

There’s no way he’s getting to class now. Not with the way the pages scatter all over the green.

 

Chan doesn't have the energy to be pissed off about it. 

 

Thankfully some students around help him gather every page over the better part of fifteen minutes.

 

He receives smiles of empathy as he hurriedly bows in thanks to those who helped. His face is flushed with the chilled air and a thin layer of sweat, something that doesn’t feel too good when the temperature is just toeing the line of freezing.

 

Chan takes a moment to catch his breath once he gets all of his things into his bag so they won’t fly off again. Looking around the green to figure out where he is—having become turned around in his haste to collect all of his papers—when he catches sight of what looks to be a familiar figure.

 

 _It can’t be._ Chan thinks as he begins to walk closer, leaning to the right to get a better look at the young man, because— No way—

 

“Woojin?” Chan says in disbelief, eyes wide as the man turns around and catches sight of him.

 

Their expressions mirror each others shock quite well, Chan thinks.

 

The other man only looks surprised for a moment though before he smiles brightly. “ _Bang Chan_ , who would’ve thought.”

 

Chan is still in a state of shock when he notices Woojin staring at something on his chest, and glances down for a moment _. Well that’s embarrassing._

 

Somehow out of all the sweaters Chan owns, he managed to put on Woojin’s old kendo hoodie from the airport. The fabric a bit more well fitted now, as Chan hasn’t yet managed to lose the weight he gained from his mom’s cooking over break even two months later.

 

“Oh um, this—this was an accident,” Chan tries to explain, but is cut off by Woojin’s gentle laughter. It sounds different outside, and not in a dark airport hallway, but it’s still beautiful.

 

“Don’t worry, it looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

 

“Huh—Hey, are you doing anything now?” Chan asks. “I have a class, but I’m not gonna make it anyways so… Would you like to go out for a bagel or something?.”

 

“I’d love to, and can I _please_ have your number now before I forget, Hyunjin nearly thottled me when he found out I never managed to get ‘cute australian boy’s number’—” Woojin bends his fingers in figurative quotation marks as he laughs, and Chan finds himself joining in as he nods.

 

"Of course you can."

 

He hand shis phone to Woojin and watches him put the number in, smiling when he sees the little heart emoji next to the name.

 

 _Woojin_ _♡_

  
  


“Now, you said something about bagels?”

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays!


End file.
